I'm Not Only A Pirate
by MaoMao565
Summary: When pirate captain Arthur Kirkland discovers a young boy in the slums, he decides to take the child in. The two quickly form a special bond. But old enemies come between the two, separating each other for years. Will their next encounter be too much for the two, who have changed drastically in the time they were apart?
1. The Bloody Wolf

-Off the coast of Rye Harbor-

The sea was bright and blue, reflecting the light of the late afternoon sun. It was unusually warm for the spring season, so warm that even the water wasn't as bitterly cold as it normally was. A small town on the coast of the ocean was bustling, citizens running around like ants. Even though it was a Saturday afternoon, the townsfolk still had so much to be done. Fisherman were out on the water while merchants were vying for the attention of their consumers. The town pulsed with air scented with the fish, vegetables and general stink of the denizens. It was a relatively calm day, considering the small amount of noise that, on most days, suffocated the air.

Some miles off the port a black shape bobbed in the water. It was of the inconspicuous sort, and it blended in with the other boats coming into the dock. Brown, syrupy wood bent in the ebb and flow of the water, and its sparkling silver nails and hooks lit up like little fireflies. It stood about a 80 meters high, with a width of fifty and a length of around two hundred. A fine ship it was, despite a few scratches here and there, and it mirrored the joyful ambiance of the crew. On the front of the ship, in gold letters, read, "_The Bloody Wolf_."

"Today was a good day, wasn't it, mate?" A jubilant, brown-haired young man shouted to his companion. The boisterous man itched the band-aid on his nose and leaned out over the edge of the deck, laughing to the water.

His friend watched the Australian from underneath a cover of dark chocolate brown bangs that were parted to one side, then smiled. Normally the other boy's eyes were completely devoid of all emotion, but they shone whenever the Asian man graced the room with a smile.

"Indeed . . . Captain Kirkland must be pleased." His eyes shifted to the upper decks, where their captain was located.

Like a lion after the kill, Captain Arthur Kirkland lounged about on his chair, legs splayed out and resting on the table in front of him. The captain was young, though his arrogant exterior (and amazingly large eyebrows) often misled others into thinking he was older. Word among the crew was that their beloved captain was only fourteen years old. Of course, whoever was caught saying such blasphemy was threatened with the nine-tail and whip. He had a messy shock of dirty blonde hair hid under a showy red captain's hat that displayed a single feather. The rest of his gaudy outfit matched his blood-red hat, accompanied by lace that spilled out of his cuffs and an array of unnecessarily large golden buttons. His face was serene as he lay in the sun, but then he cracked open one of his eyes. Then the captain sat up and yelled, "Kyle! Leon! What are you to doing, lazing about? We're about to come into port, you buggers, so you better move your arses and do something helpful!"

Kyle saluted and muttered to Leon, "This is his good mood?" The Asian boy rolled his eyes and muttered back, "You were expecting something different?" The duo trotted away to manage the ropes and sails.

Arthur watched them leave, then sighed and leaned back into his chair. "Those gits . . ."

"Come on, don't be too hard on them. We did just have the raid of the century." The captain looked up at the speaker, who was standing over him. Clear green eyes stared into his own, and hairs that escaped from a short ponytail fell into his youthful face.

"Vash . . . " The standing man raised his eyebrows. Vash Zwingli was the ship's doctor, a lucky find that Arthur thanked his lucky stars for receiving. Besides the first mate, Dr. Zwingli was the only man who could chide the young captain or give advice on seafaring matters.

Vash looked out at the advancing port and quietly said, "We will be arriving soon. You might want to shed that outfit of yours and dress in something more appropriate."

Arthur snorted and pulled his hat over his eyes. After a moment, he finally relinquished and stood up from his seat, motioning for Vash to take his place and watch over the crew.

"Make sure they don't burn down the ship," he quipped as he left for his cabin. Vash rolled his eyes, thinking that the job given to him was more appropriate for second in command, but began examined the crew anyway. There was Kyle and Leon, and then Im Yong Soo, all regular shipmates. Over on the starboard side, there was the First Mate, Francis Bonnefoy, flirting with some other shipmen, Elizaveta Héderváry and Katyusha Braginski. Even though he was a horrible flirt and at first glance seemed unable to handle the job of First Mate, Francis was a capable man once he put his mind to it. Yao Wang, the ship's cook, was undoubtedly in the belly of the ship, doing who knows what. _Not a bad crew, all in all,_ Vash thought to himself. _He'll need them for the hard life he's chosen._


	2. Slums of Town

Arthur picked at the clothes he wore, frowning at their simplicity. He was dressed in an unadorned russet shirt and stitched pants with dull black shoes.

"Vash," he whispered. "You can see . . . _them_ . . ." Vash raised his brows. What was his captain going on about now? Arthur gestured to his face, blushing madly.

"My . . . you know . . . " The doctor stared for a second before it hit him.

"Oh. Your eyebrows?" Arthur jolted.

"Don't say it out loud!" He screamed in a whisper.

"Captain, your worry is amusing, but I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. Your good looks more than make up for your . . . ahem, brows. No go on," he gestured to the ladder hanging off the side of the ship. "If you don't get moving, your crew will be the only ones having fun tonight." Arthur glowered at him, then sighed and said, "I suppose you are right. Take care of the ship for me." The doctor nodded as Arthur climbed down and disappeared into the smoggy night.

Arthur gripped the spindly rope ladder as its small hairs tickled his hands, and carefully made his way down. For him, it was like descending into a pit of darkness; the town was murky and enveloped in a thick blanket of shadows. Finally he reached the end of the ladder and, with a leap of faith, landed on the cobblestone below.

"Now where did those lads get off to?" Arthur asked himself softly, brushing off his plainclothes. There were several streets leading in several directions. After a second of looking around, he crossed his arms and thought, _ I guess it really doesn't matter where I go. I'll end up in the same place in the morning anyway. _The young captain then boldly strode off, awaiting the excitement the night would inevitably bring him.

After walking for a few minutes, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The street he was walking down looked a bit grimier than before, and the house seemed to be much more disheveled and run-down. The windows, if present, were broken and filled with the quilts of spiders, in which insects experienced their death spasms. Lights hung very sparsely, causing strange shadows to slink from wall to wall. A cat hissed somewhere in the secretive night.

Arthur didn't realize how tense he had become until he accidentally trod upon a stick and jumped five feet in the air.

"Haha . . . Arthur, you bloke, you're scared of a stick?" He laughed and shook his head."Come on, you can do better than that! You're a pirate-." Then he felt a hand clutch at his shirt.

"AAAHH! BLOODY HELL?!" Arthur shouted and fell over backwards. "W-w-what just touched me? What do you wa- . . . huh?"

In front of him, dimly lit by the lamplights, was a small boy. He was only clothed in a filthy scrap of cloth tied with a red ribbon, and his feet were bare. Even in the dark, Arthur could tell that the boy had a mop of uncut, blonde hair, with a single stubborn cowlick protruding from the mess. His big, cerulean blue eyes stared at Arthur with a mixture of surprise and shock. The boy seemed to be only eight or nine years old.

"What's a boy doing in a dingy place like this?" Arthur mumbled, crawling over to the boy. "Hi! What . . . what are you doing here?" He asked the child. The boy tilted his head.

" 'Merican . . . " He said slowly. Arthur started, curious by what the boy meant. _American?_

"No, no . . ." Arthur said, "I'm English. I'm an Englishman." The boy's eyebrows knotted together in confusion.

"Eng-Eng . . . Eg . . . Iggy?" He sputtered out. The pirate stared inquisitively at the boy. Why was he having trouble speaking? Was he never taught how? Who would leave a boy out in this horrible world without the mandatory technique of speech?

"Iggy! Iggy! Iggy!" The boy chirped happily, interrupting Arthur's thoughts. The child smiled cheerfully up at Arthur, who couldn't help but smile back.

"You're . . . kinda cute . . ." Arthur whispered, and, deep in his mind, a plan began to form, a compassionate, very unpirate-like plan that could possibly ruin his career. He hugged the boy close and murmured, "You can come with me, lad."

The boy nodded into his shirt. _So apparently he can understand what I'm saying_, Arthur thought. _He just can't talk. But why?_

Gently, he took the youngster's hand and made his way back to the ship. _Bullocks . . . I hope I remember how I came . . . _

Fortunately, after a few pauses where the pirate second-guessed himself, the duo found themselves back at the ship. Then a second problem arose: how to get the boy onto the ship. The only entrance was the dangling ladder that was two times too big for the kid.

"Umm . . . " Arthur mumbled, chewing his lip and looking up at the ladder. "Uh . . . how about this? You can ride on my back while I climb up!" The boy's eyes locked his and seemed to say, _Are you sure? You don't look that strong . . ._ The pirate huffed and said, "Well, you think of a better idea!" His little companion shrugged, then stepped back a few feet.

"Hey, what are you-" Arthur was cut off as the toddler ran forward and sprang upward. Impossibly, he caught onto the bottom rung of the ladder and heaved himself upward until he fell over, out of sight. The ladder still waved from the force of the child's climb.

Arthur was in disbelief. _How did he do that?!_ He screamed inside his head. _That's one heck of a kid . . ._ He chuckled and grabbed the rope himself.

The pirate agilely leapt over the deck's railing and landed face to face with the wonder kid.

"Hullo," he said, an inch away from azure eyes. "Come on, lad." He enclosed the small hand again and led the way to his cabin.

"Hmm . . ." A pair of green eyes watch Arthur lead the boy across the deck. "What do you think you're doing?" Vash asked inaudibly. Then he smiled and thought, _ Well, what's the harm?_

A/N: Yay! First story ever! Sorry about forgetting the author's note on the first chapter, I'm trying to get the hang of this website, what with it being my first submission and all. It's so exciting!

Critiques are very welcome, and flames will be used to toast the marshmallows and starbursts I brought. If I made a mistake, please let me know!

Finally, thank you for reading. (^.^)


	3. A New Start

Sunlight streamed through the window of Arthur's cabin, covering his face in warmth. The morning sun promised a good, warm day, full of potential miracles. Arthur's legs were tangled in the blankets that previously covered his bed, and his arms were splayed out around him. Captain Kirkland snored softly, then mumbled incoherently and rolled over in his bed. His eyes blinked open slowly, and he rubbed at his face.

Then Arthur heard an uproar coming from outside. Bangs and crashes were followed by a strangled, "Get back here!" _That annoying voice . . . _ Then came a noise that sounded like china breaking and tables being overturned.

The pirate face-palmed and thought, _What has Yong Soo done now?_ He struggled to get up from his comfortable laying position just in time to see his cabin door open and slam shut. He locked eyes with a child's frightened blue eyes and the events of last night came rushing in.

"Oh, bullocks-" The door burst open again, this time revealing flowing blue and white robes.

"There you are, you little-" Yong Soo swiped at the boy, who dived toward Arthur's bed with a choked, "Iggy!"

The child made it to Arthur's side and hid behind the captain, trembling with fear. The Korean looked up and realized he was in the captain's room. He began to flush a little bit.

"Oh, sorry, Captain Kirkland . . . I found this kid on the decks while I was cleaning and he probably climbed on last night while we were anchored to the dock, I don't really understand how he was able to get on board but I can take care of it right away sir-"

"Yong Soo, stop. I took this kid in last night." Arthur said, rubbing his temples. The shocked countenance written on Yong Soo's face almost made Arthur laugh, but he bit his tongue in hopes of keeping his quickly fading pride. The Korean shook his head and repeated, "You took him in?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and said, "Yes. I took him in." Yong Soo grinned and replied, "I get it! Sorry about that disruption, captain! But, uh . . . the crew is kinda curious about the kid."

"Of course. Leave me for a few minutes to get dressed, then I will come and explain everything." The shipman nodded and quickly exited the room, leaving Arthur with the boy still huddled behind him. He sighed and turned to face the boy, who buried his face in Arthur's backside.

"Sorry about that, chap . . ." Arthur said, patting the kid on the head. The child sniffled and looked up at the pirate, and his eyes said, _It's okay. _Then Arthur lifted up his comfortable wool covers and clambered out of bed, the boy trailing after him. He quickly opened his cupboards and retrieved his gaudy pirate outfit, which he placed on his bed. The young boy watched with big eyes as Arthur shed his shirt from last night and donned his blood red top.

"Err . . . could you look away for a second?" Arthur said, his face beginning to turn red. The boy grinned mischievously and shook his head, taking a seat on the bed. Arthur looked up at the ceiling and groaned something incoherent, then turned and hastily exchanged his pants.

"You are such a . . . " He muttered at the boy, who was giggling adorably. Any ire the pirate might have had was quickly melted as the child gave him a five-star smile and leaned over to hug him.

"Iggy!"

"Oh, bugger . . . come on. You have a grand entrance to attend." The pirate tried to sound stern, but it came out more like an affectionate parent. _Look at what you've done to me, you little prat._

Stepping out of his own door, Arthur felt a little like he was stepping into another door. He was seeing his own ship the way a little kid was, every possible nook and cranny, every potential hiding spot or trouble area. Loose ropes swayed in the wind like nooses, and metal poles clacked together like skeleton teeth. _The Bloody Wolf_suddenly seemed to invoke its namesake more than ever before.

The little hand inside his clenched together, whether in fear or apprehension Arthur didn't know. He squeezed back comfortingly, then turned to face his crew.

"Everyone, I am sure you have heard of the commotion caused this morning. The reason for that is right here," Arthur declared, gesturing to the little boy. "Last night, I found this lad on the street. I have taken him in, so I expect everyone gathered to treat him like one of the crew."

"Captain, you found a sveetheart! That boy is so cute!" Elizaveta gushed as she pushed her way in front of the crowd and kneeled down before the child. "Little one, what is your name?"

"Elizaveta, the boy has trouble talk-" Arthur interrupted.

"Alfred!" The boy confidently shouted, stepping in front of Arthur. "Alfred! I Alfred!" Arthur gaped as Elizaveta clapped her hands in front of her face and grinned.

"Alfred! That is a vonderful name! Well, little Alfred, you can consider yourself to be officially recognized on this ship!" Elizaveta crooned, hugging Alfred as the boy began to flush slightly and the crowd of gathered sailors began to chuckle.

"Oi, Elizaveta, don't scare the tyke! We all know how frightening you can be!" Yelled Kyle. Elizaveta stuck out her tongue at him and would have given him the bird if Arthur didn't choose that moment to step out in front of them and begin to speak.

"Erm . . . Elizaveta, if you didn't notice, Alfred is having some problems speaking. We need someone to help him with his speech impediment- It's not bad," he added quickly when he saw the worried look Alfred gave him. Elizaveta nodded and gave an enthusiastic "yes."

"I vould love to! This little one is so adorable, it vould be my pleasure!" She beamed at him.

Arthur smiled and said, "Great. Thank you." Then he turned back to the rest of the crew and clasped his hands in front of his chest. "Alright. I have a question to ask you lot. Since our grand escapade yesterday, our destination has been up in the air. As you all know, we have as much money as any noble worth his title, so money is not a problem. Now, to the matter at hand . . . to what poor country shall we bestow our lovely selves?"

The question echoed around for a second before an obnoxious voiced piped up.

"Anywhere is good, man! We got gold, we got freedom, and, most of all, we got no stupid navy on our butts like usual!" Choruses of agreement clamored agreement with Yong Soo's statement.

"Zat is true! Ve have all ze zings a pirate could vant!" Katyusha exclaimed happily. Elizaveta nodded from her spot next to Alfred and flashed Arthur the thumbs-up.

"Eh, Cap'n, why don't we just sail for a while? We don't need a destination to be happy," Kyle added.

Arthur was surprised for a millisecond, then broke out into a relenting, mature smile. He scratched the back of his head and said, "If that is what you blokes want . . . We'll start sailing immediately." Everyone on deck broke out into smiles, and a great roar of applause followed Arthur's answer. The pirate chuckled inwardly. _It isn't too hard to please these pirates, isn't it?_

Then, dramatically, he removed a knife from its scabbard on his hip and set it on the ground. It wasn't anything special; just a silver knife with a wooden hilt and a small false ruby set into the base. "Alfred, would you like to do the honors?" The pirate asked. The boy didn't reply but cautiously walked up to the weapon. He kneeled down and gently flicked the knife.

Even though Alfred didn't tap the hilt that hard, the blade whisked across the deck with a spin akin to a football. Its rotation caused the blade to blur, making its outcome unpredictable. _Just like the wheel of fate_, Arthur thought absentmindedly as he watched. For a second longer, the dagger whirled into the deck. Then, with a sharp _THUNK, _itimbedded itself into the wall of the deck and was silent.

It seemed every sound on the deck had been muffled, and even when the knife shanked the deck, a quiet persisted. Even the masts and normally rickety chains were stifled in the silence, edging around as the wind died into a small breeze.

"Zat's . . . West . . ." Francis whispered, breaking the silence. "To zhe New World."

**A/N:** Longer chapter this time! And Alfred and Arthur are being adorable, as per usual.

I want to apologize about Katyusha's and Elizaveta's accents . . . I don't mean to be rude with the accents, it's just that they are a really fun way to make the character unique. I don't really know how to type a Korean accent because I've never heard Korean . . . ;

Critiques make my day! And flames will be ignored or used to make dessert. :)


	4. Trouble on the Horizon

"No, no, Alfred, you use 'are' when talking to another person," Elizaveta corrected the child. The two of them were sitting in a decent-sized room off of the main chamber of the ship. Aptly titled "The Library," by Arthur, it was affectionately nicknamed "The Professor's Corner," by the more rebellious crewmates. Before Elizaveta had claimed it as little Alfred's schoolroom, it was thought of as off-limits territory and no one had ventured inside.

The were two mahogany tables residing in the room, on either side and parallel to the door. Further back in the room were several book cases, all stuffed to the point of abuse with old, dusty novels and maps. There was a single map on the side of the wall, about a meter tall and two meters wide. On the map was nearly a pound's worth of tacks, pinned into various locations of the world. Even though there were no windows on the sides, sunlight streamed in through the strategic designs on the rafters of the room.

"How . . . a-are you," the boy muttered, eying the words that Elizaveta had written on a piece of paper (a lucky find, considering that paper and pens were rare.)

"Very good! Now try dis one," the brown-haired Hungarian exclaimed, then pointed back at scribbles on the paper.

"M-my n . . . name is Alfred," Alfred said slowly. "My n-name is Alfred." The second time he said it, he broke out into a grin and beamed at Elizaveta, who joyfully clapped her hands together.

"So good! You are a very talented young boy!" She patted his head as he continued to grin at her. Then the door opened, and in stepped none other than the captain himself.

He tipped his hat to Elizaveta and asked, "How is it going?"

"Oh, captain! Dis boy is such a qvick learner! I vent through all the alphabet, and already he can read as vell as the next boy! It is amazing!" Elizaveta asserted gleefully, hugging bright-faced Alfred.

Arthur smirked proudly while bending down and playfully tousling Alfred's golden hair. Alfred glanced up at the pirate with wide eyes then quickly looked down at the ground, his face growing redder and redder from the pleasure of receiving praise.

"I knew you were a mighty smart lad when I first saw you," Arthur said, simultaneously thinking, _But I would have taken you in regardless._

"Alfred, show him how far you've come!" Elizaveta suggested, nudging the boy softly. Alfred stared at Arthur, then gulped and stared down at the floor. Arthur leaned slightly, trying to make eye contact with the boy, and smiled encouragingly.

" . . . Hello. M-my name is Alfred," Alfred spoke quietly and tentatively, his words like plucks of a violin or dewdrops on a flower. To Arthur, his voice was that of an angel, pure and serene. "I-I'm seven. How are you . . . Iggy?" He ended his performance with an impish grin after using Arthur's new nickname.

Arthur's face exploded in an embarrassed red. It wasn't that he disliked the name, it's just that he didn't like being called that in front of other people.

"Why you . . . little twat!" He shouted, lunging after a squealing Alfred, who escaped from his chair and began running around The Library. Soon after, Alfred found himself caught in a noogie-hold by Arthur and was yelling and laughing at the same time. Arthur's face was pink from happiness and physical exertion, making him seem his actual age. Both of them ended up in a jovial mess on the floor, writhing around, both trying to tickle the other and pleading, "Stop!" when they were tickled.

Elizaveta, who had decided to stay at the table, began chuckling to herself as she watched the two rough-house on the ground. _He seems so much younger vhen he is vith Alfred_, she reflected. _Dat boy . . . _

The moment seemed to stretch and repel the forces of reality, but fate has a horrible way of slaughtering blissful moments such as this. Just like a falling porcelain doll, misfortune will smash the delight Arthur had.

A knock came at the door, and it opened without Arthur giving a reply. Francis stepped inside, then saw the two boys on the ground and smiled in a tired way. Arthur knew something was wrong when his perverted First Mate didn't make some kind of sexual commented and instead only said, "Arthur, we need to talk." The pirate raised his considerable brows and hurriedly got up from the ground (much to Alfred's displeasure.)

"What's wrong?" The pirate captain said, his tone now completely void of the youthfulness and joy it had earlier. His I'm-a-serious-pirate mode and serious demeanor made Elizaveta wonder if what she saw earlier was just an illusion.

Francis glanced at Elizaveta and Alfred, then back to Arthur. You could almost hear the words in his eyes. _May I tell you with zhem here?_ Arthur's eyes narrowed: _It's fine. Whatever you need to tell me, they can hear it as well. _Francis sighed. _Alright._

"Ve are being followed. Our lookout spotted a ship on zhe horizon, a very _familiar _ship," Francis said darkly. A look of realization and, one might say, fear, crossed Arthur's countenance.

"No . . ." he whispered. "It's . . . that dago. . . Isn't it?" France only nodded solemnly. Elizaveta gasped aloud and turned a shade lighter. Alfred looked around at the faces of the adults around him and grew quiet and somber. He slowly walked around to behind Arthur, then clutched a little bit of the older boy's clothes in his small fist.

The pirate glanced worriedly at Alfred, then turned back and clenched his teeth in undisguised hate. His face was dark and angry as he declared, ". . . He will _not _catch up to us, do you understand? Ready all sails and prep the men for oaring."

"I 'ave already done zhat, capitaine. Zhe men are rowing as we speak," Francis said calmly.

Arthur nodded. Again he quickly looked down at Alfred, and spoke. This time his tone wasn't that of hate or unbridled repulsion, but instead tense worry.

"What are we going to do about Alfred, Francis? We can't let those . . . monsters take him if we are caught," Arthur said bleakly. He tried to speak softly, so Alfred wouldn't understand what he and Francis were discussing, but Alfred heard. He heard, alright.

"I fight, Iggy! Fight l-like you!" The little blonde shouted as he jumped out from behind the pirate. "No take me!" With that, he brandished an invisible sword and fired an imaginary pistol, killing the enemies that Iggy and Francis talked about.

The two older pirates laughed, but they laughed like adults and only succeeded in making Alfred feel like a kid.

Francis stopped chuckling, turned to Arthur and said, "Ve can't do anyzhing right now. He is safest vith us, vhether or not ve like it." With that, he turned and walked toward the door. Just before he stepped outside, he called over his shoulder, "Be sure you protect 'im, capitaine."

**A/N: **So their pursuer has been spotted . . . Any guesses who it is? :3

Alfred and Arthur are so cute . . . I can't get over it . . . I want to fit some of Alfred's history into the next part, but I don't know if I will . . . ;

Finally, I must apologize for the racial slur . . . Bad Arthur! Him and his potty mouth!

Thank you for reading, and the usual with comments/critiques and flames! _( _ _ )_


	5. The Heart's Pain

The next few days passed relatively uneventfully. Alfred continued schooling with Elizabeta, and the boy's speech improved exponentially. In fact, Elizabeta teased that Alfred had pretended not to be able to talk the first time they met. Arthur found this odd, yet endearing, and he spent much of his time talking with the boy as he helped the child get ready for the day or put him to bed. Despite the joy he found while talking with Alfred, Arthur was still suffering from a severe case of anxiety. The news of his enemy's appearance had taken its toll on Arthur; he spent more time staring out to the horizon and asking for news about the ship. His face had taken on an unhappy grey pallor, and his eyes had small circles around them, proof he hadn't been sleeping well. _Just when I thought I'd lost them . . . _Arthur thought. Whenever he was with Alfred, he tried to hide this depressing side of him, but sometimes it peeked through.

On the fifth day of Alfred's stay at his ship, Arthur was assisting the boy get ready. He started the procedure by sitting the boy down on his lap and combing his rumpled hair.

"My goodness, Alfred! How is it that you can mussle your hair this badly?" He asked, laughing slightly. Alfred shrugged and smiled. Brushing the boy's locks was a calming pastime that Arthur had grown to love. He adored the feel of the Alfred's soft curls running through his fingers and usually combed for much longer than necessary (not that he would ever let Alfred know that.)

Just as Arthur was about to put down the comb he used, he accidentally brushed across the curl that had been there since Arthur first laid eyes on the boy.

"Ack! Arthur!" Alfred shouted, then squirmed and inadvertently fell out of Arthur's lap. He landed on the floor with a thud.

"Alfred! Are you alright?" Arthur quickly got out of the chair and stooped down to the ground. Then he started laughing, but tried hard to conceal it, for Alfred's face was the most amusing shade of red. "What happened, poppet? What's with that face?" Then, despite his efforts, his sniggers became full on laughs.

"Don't laugh! I've been like this ever since I was born!" Alfred protesting, rubbing his florescent face. The boy's insulted expression made Arthur want to laugh harder, but he was able to control himself and stifled his laughter.

"Oh, it's fine! Don't make that face, boysie!" Arthur said kindly, stroking Alfred's hair. Alfred sulked for a second, but then his face took on a more serious, reminiscent expression. He looked a lot older and more mature than Arthur gave him credit for.

"Arthur . . . " Alfred started, then looked down at the grown. "I didn't tell you why I have trouble speaking, I did?" He said.

"It's 'did I?,' and no, you didn't," Arthur replied. Alfred closed his eyes and mouthed 'did I?' for a few seconds before he looked back to the pirate and continued speaking.

"Before you found me, I had some problems. I lost my mother and father when I was born and I were- sorry, was taken in by an orphanage. They, uh . . ." Alfred trailed off, and Arthur gave him a supporting smile. ". . . They didn't like it when I talked. Mom and Dad taught me, but . . . I dunno, after years of no speaking, I just . . . forgot. They . . . they did some b-bad stuff . . ." Alfred quieted again, staring at his hands. Arthur's heart contracted. After hearing the boy's story he felt his mouth dry and realized what Alfred was saying. _He was beaten for talking_, he concluded, sickened.

Before he registered what he was doing, he leaned across the bed and embraced Alfred, who didn't resist. Arthur buried his face into the child's back and only tightened his hold when he felt what seemed like tears on his hands. The child cried softly, without a sound, in fact, and Arthur only knew his weeping from the tremors going through Alfred's body and the wet drops falling onto his sleeves and hands. Alfred clutched at the two arms wrapping his torso, almost in fear that is he let go, they would disappear.

"It's okay, love," he said into Alfred's back. "Those people can't hurt you anymore. You're here, with me, and that's what counts." He couldn't see it, but he felt Alfred nod, and begin to wipe at his tear-streaked face.

"Turn around," Arthur whispered. Alfred stiffened, but he hesitantly twisted to face the kind older boy. Another pang of grief ravaged Arthur's chest when he saw the boy he had come to cherish red with the tears he cried. The boy's eyes were pink and puffy, and his nose ran a little, but the feeling inside Arthur's chest didn't care. He gently took a handkerchief that was tucked into his gaudy sleeve and dabbed at the Alfred's face, taking care not to hurt the boy while doing so.

"Blow," he commanded kindly. Alfred complied, then pawed at his faced and smiled.

"Thank you . . . much, Iggy," the boy murmured, so softly, so sweetly. Arthur smiled in response and rested his head on the younger boy's forehead. "I've never told anybody before now . . ."

Suddenly, the child in front of Arthur seemed so much more important than anything else the young man had faced in his life. His gold, his jewels, his fancy clothes . . . none of them held a candle to the loving, pure boy in his embrace. The way Alfred smelled, the sparkling shine of his hair in the sun, his laughing, joyful smile, the way he spoke so delicately . . . He adored them all.

Arthur leaned down, so painstakingly slow. Then, peacefully, like a blessed sunrise, he kissed Alfred's forehead.

Alfred didn't twitch, or shy away, but buried himself deeper into Arthur's abdomen. Arthur laughed softly, marveling at Alfred's warmth and the way his small arms wrapped around his body. _Please . . . let this moment last . . ._

". . . I love you, Arthur," Alfred said at last, looking up from Arthur's chest and gazing into the pirate's beautiful green eyes.

Arthur's smile grew as he looked back into pools of sapphire and replied, "I love you too, Alfred. Probably more than anything else I have ever known. And I can say with all honesty that this is the truest feeling I have ever felt in the span of my life." They smiled at each other, knowing, with each passing moment, that the connection they shared was extraordinary.

Then the door slammed open with the force of a grizzly bear. It was Leon, panting at the doorway and face pale from fear. It only took a second for the boy to take in the scene and then begin to speak. Arthur flushed, his mind overreacting at being caught in a compromising position.

"Captain, this is no time for frivolities. The _Esclavo Sangrieto _is just a few miles off of our ship!" Leon exclaimed forebodingly. Immediately sweat beaded on Arthur's brow and neck, and his body shivered from a cold tremor. His eyes glimmered and darkened in a deadly way, like obsidian knives. Alfred jumped when the pirate quickly stood up and walked to the doorway, worried by the change in the older boy's behavior.

"What's our status?" The pirate demanded, his fists clenched.

"Not good, sir. Concluded intent to fire. Seems like they want back their dragon's horde," Leon informed bitterly. "We have prepared our cannons, but . . . They outnumber us, to say the least."

"We might have bit off more than we could chew this time . . ." Arthur muttered through gritted teeth, looked down at the ground. "What are we going to do with Alfred? He can't stay here!"

Leon stared down at the boy sitting on his captain's bed. Alfred was a bit unnerved with the boy's direct, unflinching gaze, and looked away uncomfortably. Then the Hong Kong boy spoke again.

" . . . I have an idea. Someone could try to escape with the child, in our lifeboat." Arthur's eyes widened, thoughts battling inside his head. _That's so dangerous! They would be going out in plain sight, with no cannons or defenses! . . . But if that is the only chance Alfred has . . ._ In a split second, Arthur made his decision. He rushed over to Alfred and kneeled down in front of him, speaking with a feigned calmness.

"A-alfred, you are going to go with this man now. He is going to help you escape," he said. Then he said to Leon, "Get to town. You should be able to find a job there and be able to support yourselves. I'll . . . l-look for you when I can." No one in the room dared speak of the ghostly word hanging in the air: the sinister 'if' in that statement.

Leon nodded and walked over to the bed, where he took Alfred's hand and began to walk out the door. Alfred followed willingly for a few steps, but then broke free and ran toward Arthur. With hidden tears in his eyes, Alfred cried, "Iggy! Don't . . . d-don't forget about me, alright?" Arthur stiffened and nodded, his eyes closing due to the excruciating pain in his heart.

"Of course, love. Of course." With those final last words, Arthur's treasure stepped out of his room and out of his life.

**A/N: **Ahh! Don't kill me! I know, I know, it's a cliffhanger. . . I nearly cried myself when writing it! D: I tried to make up for it with some fluffy fluff at the beginning . . . (Weren't they adorable? (*/v/*) )

Anyway, please critique and comment! Even if it's a death threat, it's still appreciated . . . .; Flames be ignored.


	6. El Esclavo Sangrieto

When Arthur stepped out of his cabin, he changed. His pure, unbridled rage for his enemy caused his face to contort into an incensed mask. _He separated us . . . he removed me from the one thing that brightened my life . . ._ With every thought, his eyebrows furrowed deeper and his face grew more livid. His fists were angry knots at his side that trembled with the passion of his fury.

He stalked purposefully across the deck to his First Mate. When Francis saw him, he did a double-take, but said nothing about his captain's rage. Instead he spoke to Arthur about the situation at hand.

"Zhings don't look good, Arthur," Francis said, his head shaking in apprehension. "Leon told you about zhe confirmed fire, correct? Zhat's not all. Zhey intend to board our _Wolf_."

"We won't go down without a bloody fight, I hope you know," Arthur said angrily. Francis held up his hands and said, "Of course, capitaine. All of zhe crew knows the severity of zhis situation."

"Well, good," Arthur spat, and, unsheathing his blade, looked out to the incoming ship. "I hope everyone is already armed." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"But of course." The two stood on the deck, a pair of dark shadows against the beast that was fast approaching them.

The minutes passed slowly, as though time was drenched in syrup or a sticky tar. Arthur's complexion never once wavered in his anger. If it was any other situation, Francis might have made a crack about his captain's face freezing in that horrid expression, but at that moment he genuinely feared being shot at by Arthur. The cannon crews were already setting up and waiting for the order to fire: Elizaveta, Yao, and Kyle manning the guns and Katyusha and Yong Soo acting as powder monkeys.

Their enemy acted first. A single explosion was heard, and a cannonball sailed through the air. It landed about 25 feet far right, and they ship swayed from the waves created.

"Powder monkeys, now!" There was hurried scurrying as the two powder monkeys ran across the deck to provide the cannons with explosion powder. Arthur watched every action with the eye of a deadly hawk.

"On my mark, cannons one, two and three! Ready . . . aim . . . now!" Arthur called into the air, flinging his arm to the oncoming _Esclavo Sangrieto._ Three explosions tore the deck of _The Bloody Wolf, _covering most of the area in smoke and powder. Arthur watched their progress through eyes slitted against the painful smoke.

Two of the balls missed, both too weak to make it to the ship, but the third nicked the topmost part of the mast. The upper part tore straight off, falling onto the deck below it.

Arthur was about to shout another order to reload when his ship rocked violently, throwing the pirate captain off his feet. A flurry of curses accompanied the struggling Englishman as he wrestled to stand against the disloyal, swaying deck.

"It 'as 'it us, capitaine!" Francis informed Arthur, helping the man stand.

"I can see that," Arthur growled. "What's the dama- huh!"

Francis glanced up to see what made Arthur cut off, then swallowed painfully. In through the blurry smoke loomed the ship that caused this mess, the hated _Esclavo Sangrieto_. On the deck, leaning over the railing was none other than the captain himself, Antonio Carriedo. All Arthur saw was a tan face set in a cruel smirk, curls of chocolaty-brown hair falling over delicate cheekbones and escaping from a loose ponytail, and green eyes nearly identical to his own.

Then the man spoke, his voice confident, pitiless and coated in a thick Spanish accent.

"Hola, Señor Arthur Kirkland. ¡_Como estás_!" Arthur only glared harder and snarled at the Spaniard's words. "Aww, come on, don't be like that. It's not you didn't think this would be coming. You are, of course, the one who stole _mi tesoro_ . . ." Carriedo's eyes glinted dangerously as he finished talking. "And I am the one who will be getting it back."

"Over my dead body!" Arthur screamed furiously. With the ease of practice, he unsheathed a rifle that hung to his side and started to aim at the other pirate. It wasn't a very large pistol, but it would be enough to kill the Spanish devil.

_Snap! Snap! Snap!_ The explosions of Arthur's firearm echoed in the heavy air. Vaguely the pirate noticed ladders being thrown onto the decks of his ship, those same ladders then being hacked at by his crew and falling overboard. He saw figures running around madly on his deck, some sparring, some lying on the ground, bleeding to death. Arthur winced as Yong Soo was struck with the blunt end of a blade and then fell to the ground. _No . . . I've got to concentrate!_ He thought determinedly.

_Snap! Snap! _Twice more Arthur fired, aiming directly for the Spanish pirate captain's head. But fate was against him that day. A deadly combination of bloodlust and rage caused Arthur to misfire and send the bullets right over Carriedo's head, creating small holes in the rafters but doing nothing to harm the Spaniard. As Arthur snarled in frustration, Carriedo laughed and climbed down one of the ladders that had escaped the Englishman's crew.

Then the two were facing off in the middle of the deck, Carriedo smiling smugly and Kirkland trembling in hatred. As Arthur watched, the other pirate slowly withdrew his own pistol, examining it with mock care as he spoke.

"You know . . . you brought this on yourself. Sure, I don't like you, Kirkland, but I would have let you go . . . But you had to go and dig _tu tumba_ . . ." Carriedo looked up from his pistol and smiled, but this smile held no kindness. Then he began to walk toward Arthur, who aimed his pistol and shouted for the Spanish pirate to stop. Just as Arthur's fingers pulled the trigger, Carriedo's arm snapped up and, with a single shot, nailed Arthur in the hand.

"Aaagh!" Arthur screamed as he clutched his hand in pain and watched the gun skitter out of reach. "You . . . bastard . . ." he spat, eyes glinting red with malice and hate. Carriedo only smiled wider and came closer.

"I already told you, you can only blame yourself for this. If only you hadn't been so greedy . . ." Carriedo trailed off as he stepped a foot away from Arthur. Green orbs glowered at green orbs as the two pirates stared each other down, much like a fight between two wolves. Then tan lips curved into a menacing leer.

In a millisecond, Spanish hands enveloped Arthur's thin neck in a death grip.

"Gghk-!" Arthur gasped as he was attacked by a vise-like throttle hold. Then the Spaniard lifted up the teenager and took a few steps, easily demolishing Arthur's attempts at release.

"You know, Kirkland, you're a lot lighter than I would have thought," Carriedo commented idly as he strangled Arthur.

In just a few moments, Carriedo stopped walking, and Arthur soon realized why. He heard the sound of water lapping at the sides of his beautiful ship and saw through his spotted vision the railing of his ship and the murky water beneath him. The pirate was suspended above the dark, relentless sea with no ground beneath his feet and the only safety coming from a choking grip.

"It is only fair that a pirate should die en _el mar_, isn't that right? Besides . . . I'm feeling kind today," Carriedo spoke casually, his eyes betraying that he knew something Arthur didn't. "For who knew that our revenge hunt could lead to an even greater prize?"

As if on cue, one of Carriedo's crew, a big man with a mop of white-blonde hair and a substantial nose walked out into view. Arthur heard chains clanking and a pit of dread grew in his stomach. Then, out of the shadows stepped two very, very familiar figures.

"No . . . " Arthur whispered, voice cracking. "No . . ."

"Iggy . . ." Alfred whimpered, the manacles on his wrists clinking. Arthur's eyes widened and he heard howling, not realizing he was the one making the sound.

"He will be a good asset, I'm certain," Carriedo said, his voice laced with maliciousness. "_Ahora,_ _capitán_ . . . _dice_ _hola a los peces para mi, por favor_?"

Arthur felt the grip on his throat lessen, then disappear altogether. The world flashed, and his stomach flipped as he plummeted. He hit the water with an explosion, and the dark water smothered his raw, justice-hungry screams.

**A/N: **Ah! Heartbreak after heartbreak! Not only is Arthur dying, but he is dying with the knowledge that Antonio has Alfred . . . TT^TT This was a bit more action-oriented than I would have liked, but I guess that's what I get.

I hope I got the spanish at the end right . . . I couldn't resist! Antonio is epic, even when he is a tyrant. XD

Anyway . . . thanks so much for reading! I love, read and appreciate all comments/critiques/etc! Translation included below. :) Also, for clarification, a powder monkey is a crewman whose job it is to supply the cannons with gunpowder.

_Como estás: _How are you?

_Mi tesoro_: My treasure

_Tu tumba_: your grave

_El mar: _the sea

_Ahora,_ _capitán_ . . . _para mi, por favor?_: Now, captain . . . say hello to the fishes for me, please?


	7. Rebirth

_Arthur couldn't feel anything. His fingers, legs, arms, and virtually every other part of him was numb and unresponsive. Though his eyes were frantically looking around, he felt as ignorant and helpless as if they were shut. The darkness was blinding. _

_ Then, he saw a bird. It was wide and majestic, with large brown feathers and a startling white head. It approached him on gilded wings, assisted by an invisible wind. When it came close, it inspected him with beady, calculating black eyes._

_ Suddenly, it transformed into a gleaming weapon. Arthur didn't recognize it, but it certainly looked fearsome, with the body of a gun and the head of a spear. Before Arthur could think, it pierced him through the abdomen. Yet Arthur didn't feel any physical pain._

_ Instead his mind overflowed with feelings and images. Childish laughter, his hand being grasped by a small first, the sensation of something blooming in his chest, touching hair that was a soft as flaxen. Big, blue eyes._

_ Tears started to drip from his eyes, but Arthur didn't know why he was crying. The images kept flashing in front of him like a slideshow, things he didn't remember or recognize. Time slowed down, and then the last image blazed on the screen. He stared at it and stared at it and stared at it. The tears kept coming._

_ Then a dam broke within his conscious. His eyes widened. Then he screamed so intensely that his own body ripped in two._

"Arthur! Arthur! Wake up, mate!" Arthur could feel someone take a hold of his shoulders and begin to shake. He rapidly blinked his eyes open and dazedly looked around. His eyes rested on a face that was quite close to his, a familiar brown-haired face, causing him to relax slightly.

"Kyle . . ." Kyle smiled, relieved.

"Oh, good! You're awake. You were screaming bloody hell back there, captain! Did you have a nightmare or something?" The young man asked. Arthur lay still for a moment, thinking, then finally replied, ". . . Something along those lines. But, Kyle . . . where are we? My last memory was of being chucked into the sea."

The Australian laughed. "Actually, we were very lucky. The captain of this ship might want to inform you of this later, so I'll just say that some enemies of Carriedo's recognized us as friends."

"I see . . ." Arthur stated as he took a look at the cabin he was in. It was much like his older one, but it was sparser and a few feet smaller.

"Actually," Kyle began, scratching the tip of his nose, "one of the captain's men ran out to inform him when you started screaming. He should be coming soon."

Normally Arthur would have been mortified at the thought of being caught screaming in his sleep, but he didn't feel anything. He just felt hollow, like a gutted melon. A really, really handsome gutted melon, but an empty shell nevertheless.

_If only I had sent out Alfred sooner . . . He wouldn't be trapped in that dago's lair . . . If I had just had the strength to let him go . . . _

The noise of a door opening interrupted Arthur's what-if parade. The English pirate wearily looked up to see what kind of man this captain was. _Hopefully he won't turn me in for piracy, _Arthur thought, _but, frankly, I couldn't care less._

There were two men in front of him. Well, Arthur assumed they were both male, but the shorter one had incredibly delicate features, reminiscent of a girl's. Short black hair framed his refined face, his locks as black as his emotionless eyes. He had an oriental look to him as well, which led to a pain in Arthur's heart as he thought of a smiling Yong Soo. _What happened to him?_ The clothes he wore were fancy, a black uniform with golden piping and an upturned collar. An thin obsidian blade hung by his side.

The other was quite a bit taller, nearly two full heads, and was also very well muscled. He had his gold wheat-colored hair forcefully slicked back, and invoked the image of the military with his stern eyes and athletic posture. Unlike the other male, this one had a masculine sort of grace and had a handsome face.

The brunette was the first to speak. His speech was a fragile as his appearance, and with a Japanese accent said, "It is good to see that you are finarry awake. You have been out for a exactry six days."

The blonde nodded and said, "Indeed. Ve vere vondering if you vould ever vake up. By zee vay, I am Ludwig Beilschmidt, First Mate."

"I am the captain of this ship. My name is Kiku Honda. You may carr me Captain Honda or Honda-sama, whichever one you prefer. That is, whichever one is more appearring to your Engrish tastes," the brunette stated. "I am assuming you wish for me to exprain how you found yourserf on my ship . . ." Arthur stared at him blankly, then turned his head to stare out the window.

"Frankly, chum, I don't know what happened, but I really don't care."

Then Arthur felt a pressure on his throat. He looked down with his eyes and found that he was at sword point with Honda's blade. It dug into his skin slightly, leaving a red mark.

"I berieve, Arthur-san, that I instructed you to address me as Honda-sama or Captain Honda. I wirr not stand for someone unabere to understand instructions to stay on my ship. From what I have gathered, you have been through a rot, but that is not excuse to act insorentry."

Arthur turned back, smiled and said, "Of course, sir. I must offer my most grievous apologies. You must excuse me, captain. I would be most honored to hear what transpired on that day 144 hours ago." Honda blinked, then sheathed his blade and stepped back to a polite distance away from the bed.

"Of course. I wourd rike to inform you, Arthur-san, that Captain Carriedo and I are not the best of friends. In fact, he took something very important to me, so I have been tracking him these rast few months to get it back. Six days ago, I was trairing him so I courd find a good opportunity to attack. However, you can see that our ship is not the biggest vesser in the sea, and I was unaber to pinpoint a situation which wourd to be our advantage. So my crew and I waited."

Arthur didn't move or speak. It actually surprised him that him still had the will to breath, but he paid attention to the Japanese captain.

"Then I saw you in the distance. It became obvious that Captain Carriedo was sairing directry to you, so I rearized that he wanted to attack you. I hung back behind the fighting and when I sawr you and your shipmate, I remembered a Chinese proverb: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So I rescued you and housed you in my ship, which brings us back to the present."

"I see . . . " Arthur said quietly. He didn't say anything else, and the room became stuffed with an uncomfortable silence. As the shipmates searched desperately for something to distract from the silence, Arthur spoke up again.

"Captain, you hate Carriedo, right?"

Captain Honda's eyes narrowed. "My feerings toward him are not friendry. Why do you ask?"

Arthur leaned forward in the bed, closing the distance between him and Captain Honda so they were separated only by a few inches.

"We both despise that man, so I would like to ask if I may join your ship. As a shipman, of course."

Across the room, Kyle's eyes widened and he let out a noise of surprise. The tall man next to Captain Honda looked surprised for a second, but quickly regained his composure. Captain Honda didn't move at all. Instead, he looked straight at Arthur and said, "Onry if you are wirring to bow down and say master."

Arthur smiled and nodded. "Aye-aye, captain."

**A/N: **Lol sorry for the long update! Marching band has been a real killer... Waking up at five in the morning is /not/ fun XP.

But it's finally out! Arthur isn't captain anymore! I wonder how he is going to react to being treated like a regular shipman... probably not well.

Again, comments and critiques are valued and will make my day! Flames will be ignored.


	8. Dealings With Pirates

"Blast... our captain really works us hard, doesn't he?" Arthur asked, wiping the sweat off his brow with a swipe of his hand. It was a couple of weeks after he made his proposition, and already Arthur found himself mopping decks, tidying up rooms and doing other mundane chores. It was also customary to make newcomers like him work in the kitchen, but it was quickly discovered that Arthur was ... slightly lacking in the cooking department. In fact, he had managed to make their cook, an Italian by the name of Feliciano Vargas, scream with terror and hide, trembling, under the oven.

Though that pursuit was deemed fruitless, Arthur had made himself useful in other ways. He became the cleaning boy of the ship, scrubbing and scouring every nook and cranny until it near sparkled.

All of the crew members took to him, even if it took some of them a few weeks. For example, the cook's brother, Lovino Vargas, seemed to hate him on sight. Indeed, Lovino's first words to the ex-captain were, "What the f*** are you doing on this ship, you eyebrow bastard?" However, he was hurriedly told that this Italian seemingly treated everyone that way, so he tried not to take too much offense (even though he thought the eyebrow comment was _completely _unnecessary.)

Arthur learned right after his direct encounter with Captain Honda that the tall, military-esque man was a German named Ludwig Wellschmidt. The stern man was the Second in Command in the ship, a fitting choice considering the pride the man took in his work. He never left anything unfinished or finished poorly; when he was on the job you knew it would be done right. Arthur learned this right away after spending just a few hours working with him. He was also the one who, after an hour of coaxing, managed to get Feliciano out from under the oven. Ludwig was a hard worker...almost the exact opposite of his brother.

Just a few years older than Ludwig, Gilbert Wellschmidt was a character. It seemed to Arthur that he was the resident stray cat, for he never did any work except sometimes to help out his brother and Feliciano. Most days he was found sitting on the rafters with a strange little bird he had apparently found or in the kitchen, drinking his "beloved Deutch booze" and getting incredibly drunk. Gilbert wasn't a mean soul, but Arthur quickly noticed that teasing was one of his favorite pastimes...so he tried not to be caught unawares in front of the rambunctious German.

Arthur sighed and readjusted his place on the mop, feeling the knobby handle grind a whole into his side. _This whole ship is full of unusual people..._ He looked over to where another shipmate was supposed to be helping him clean, but light snores told him he would be the solitary cleaner that afternoon. Heracles Karpusi, the final shipmate, was stretched out on the ground, deeply asleep. How that man was able to sleep through rocky waters Arthur didn't know, but he was constantly found sleeping in positions that anyone else would think to be uncomfortable.

The Brit nudged Heracles with his foot.

"Hey, wake up!" Arthur whispered fiercely. The Greek didn't respond and instead rolled over in his sleep, prompting Arthur to roll his eyes in frustration. "Come on, I said! We need to finish this!" No reply.

Footsteps echoing across the deck alerted Arthur to an arriving presence. He quickly stood at attention as his gaze snapped to the person arriving: Captain Honda.

The shadowy captain took a long look at the scene: Arthur standing at attention, mop completely vertical against his side, and Heracles, out cold on the ground. For a second Arthur was worried that the Greek would be punished by the captain; Heracles was a nice and kind man when he wasn't unconscious.

Arthur's fears were unfounded. Captain Honda's gaze lingered on the sleeping man and, surprisingly, the Japanese captain smiled.

"Don't worry about him... He has done that ever since I have first met him. Even though it does seem a bit unhearthy. But, Arthur-san, I must borrow you for a moment. Come..." Without waiting for the other to reply, Captain Honda turned and strode in the direction of his cabin. Arthur laid his mop next to the sleeping Greek and hastily jogged to catch up to the captain.

He followed the Japanese man into his private cabin and took a seat when the man gestured, admiring the finely crafted furniture. The room was nearly bare, but the things it had were of the finest quality. Delicate doilies carved onto the chair showed a complexity that could only have been achieved after days of work, and Arthur suspected that they would sell for quite a bit of money.

"Arthur-san. These past few months you have been on my ship, I have been watching you." Normally Arthur would have found such a statement to be a little on the queer side, but after being on the ship for so long he knew that Captain Honda was very good at watching and liked to keep tabs on his shipmen.

Arthur nodded and the captain continued.

"You may terr other peopre that you are eighteen, but, Arthur-san, I have seen the way you act, and your actions are not that of an adurt. Correct me if I am wrong, Arthur-san, but I berieve you to be no order than fourteen." Arthur flinched, but didn't say a word.

Captain Honda stared at him before he continued speaking. "I won't ask your reasons for hiding your age. They point I am trying to make is that you are very, very young, and, unfortunatery, very inexperienced. However," the man continued, "you are arso very smart and a quick rearner. So . . . I am wirring to make you my apprentice. Whether or not you accept is your choice."

The cabin filled with silence as Arthur sat in shock and thought. Captain Honda waited and stared at him with deep, emotionless eyes, eyes that Arthur could have sworn saw straight into his soul. Arthur closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, and nodded.

"I would love to take you up on that offer, sir."

**A/N**: Sorry it took so long to upload this! I was suffering from a severe case of writer's block ... but anyway! Now it is up! And now Captain Honda is the one making a deal ... *eyebrow waggle*

I would like to thank all of you guys who commented on this! It means so much, especially when I'm lacking inspiration~. (^.^) Anyways, critiques are loved to death, and flames will still be used for desert. Thanks for reading!


	9. A Dismal Event Greets Old Friends

-Time Skip of Six Years-

"Enter left, Second in command. Powder monkeys, to the ready!" The strong, clear voice rang out in the midmorning sun. It was a beautiful day, the water clean and sparkling, reflecting the giant vessel on its surface, and the sky was open and clear with nary a cloud. On the deck of the ship, the crew members were scattered and were running with a practiced precision. Every command was met with an immediate response by the crew.

Two figures stood at the center of the boat, exuding prominence. One was clad in a sleek, black coat that was bare of all decor except for the silver buttons lining the sleeve and chest. The other bore a white buccaneer's shirt and brown belt, a pair of tan trousers finishing the outfit. Neither outfit was very dazzling, but both men created an atmosphere that inspired respect.

"Ease right, men!" The blonde shouted again. Again, a trained response came from the crew. Green eyes flicked from crewmember to crewmember, analyzing, critiquing. Strong, lean arms crossed over a torso that was no longer the chest of a child, but one of a robust young adult. Arthur Kirkland had grown, no longer a scrawny little thirteen year old but a capable, trained adult. He flicked back his bangs with his hand, then smiled at the crew members, who looked on expectantly.

"Ah, that was a spectacular display, men. Get on with your day; you're done here," he said, dismissing them with one swipe of his hand. The crowd let out a cheer of thanks, then eased back into their daily schedules and away from the canon-firing drill.

"That was very impressive, Arthur-kun." Arthur turned around and smiled at Captain Honda, whose face bore a whisper of a smile. "I am sorry I have not been present to witness your previous exercises. It was a sight to behord."

Arthur calmly scratched the back of his head and laughed.

"Oh, it wasn't anything, Captain. If anything, I owe it to you for teaching me so well." Immediately after those words had left Arthur's lips, Captain Honda's face darkened slightly, and he turned away, hacking and coughing into the crook of his arm. Arthur's green eyes widened with surprise and alarm.

"Captain! A-are you okay?!" He tried to provide a protect arm for the captain, but Honda shied away. He didn't look at the worried blonde.

"... It is... nothing. A mere airment." A rapid succession of coughs followed that statement, doing nothing to ease Arthur's worry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something fall to the ground. It was blood.

Face pale, he said, "Captain! That's not just a cold! You're bloody _bleeding_!" The captain still wouldn't meet his eyes. In an instant of stubborn pride, Arthur made a decision.

"We're getting you medicine. I'm utilizing my authority as your apprentice to take control of the ship." Captain Honda said nothing, just closed his emotionless eyes.

"... Hai." The word was nothing less than a whisper, but it was a submission all the same. The Englishman's face immediately turned into an expression of thanks.

"I'll go ready the crew."

It was dark by the time the ship had landed at the nearest dock. The blackened cobblestone streets and the lack of people milling around wrenched from Arthur a painful memory, one from six years ago, of a similar cobblestoned area... The blonde shook his head vigorously and willed the memory to disappear back into the abyss from which it came.

Ludwig hoisted the rope ladder from its nook and threw it over the ship without struggle. The strong German would be accompanying him in search for a doctor; as much as Arthur didn't like to admit it, he wasn't strong enough to fend off a couple of thieves all at the same time. He nodded at the German and climbed down the ladder, expertly hopping off at the bottom and onto the cold wood that constituted the dock. He turned to examine the streets and heard a loud thump from behind him, indicating that Ludwig had followed.

"Assistant Captain," the German said gruffly, but not unkindly, "Most medicine houses are located to the far left of town; if we keep to the alleys we should find one within the half hour." Arthur listened keenly and nodded, grateful for the man's advice.

The journey past the closed mills and shopkeeps was uneventful. The darkness poured out into the street and retreated whenever a lamplight was to be found, creating illusions and tricks of the mind. Arthur maintained an air of calmness throughout the journey; from his years of experience on Captain Honda's ship, he had learned that there was much more to fear than illusory bogeymen hiding behind fruit stalls. The air was cool, but not moist; it depicted the coming winter was to be dry and parched. Along with it a fragile urgency hung in the air, as both Ludwig and Arthur were well aware of Honda's situation.

"I think we have found it," Ludwig said at last, squinting and pointing to a dimly lit, scraggly brick hut that nestled against a wooden barricade. Picking up his pace, Arthur hurried his way to the front door and knocked cautiously. The twiggy wood that composed the door left slight scratches on his knuckles, and the door itself seemed like it was about to wretch and fall out of its sockets. Arthur, followed by Ludwig, was staring at it in an uneasy manner when it cracked open slightly, revealing naught but a glimpse at a hooded figure.

"Hrm?" Came the inquiry. "What is it?" The voice rang a bell in Arthur's mind, but he pushed it aside. There were more pressing matters to attend to. He cleared his throat.

"I have come to ask about getting some medicine for my friend. He has been suffering from a nasty cough and he seems quite ill." There was a pause. Arthur stared expectantly at what parts of the figure he could see.

The door opened a bit more.

"... Ar... thur? Mein gott, you're alive!" The figure pushed against the doorway and flung it open. A very startled and befuddled Arthur gazed on as the cloaked figure flipped off his hood, revealing a blonde cropped haircut and sharp green eyes. Arthur inhaled quickly.

"Bloody hell, Vash!" The Swiss blonde smiled in a regretful manner.

"Ja, it's me. Two ghosts meeting in the dead of night... Frankly, I'm surprised that either of us are alive." Vash ran a hand down his faced and laughed, but his laughter was more of a how-the-hell-are-we-even-alive rather than one of mirth.

"Anyway... Come in. I know this hovel isn't suited for our reunion, but, eh, it'll have to do." Vash beckoned with a flick of his hand and turned, retreating back into his house. Arthur quickly slid into the open doorway, leaving enough room for burly Ludwig to pass through after him. The twiggy door shut with a cascade of rattles, and Arthur wondered for the umpteenth time why Dr. Zwingli was in a run-down wreck such as this. However, despite how much this thought made him feel like a terrible person, he couldn't keep a glimmer of excitement out of his mind. Maybe... maybe he knew about the little one... Maybe the doctor could tell him what time could not.

The inside of the house was slightly more kept than the outside, but not by much. A wooden, circular table the size of a boat's steering wheel rested in the center of the room, and four chairs of varying sizes occupied corners. It was slightly dusty on the floor, as if it hadn't been cleaned in a few months. Vash picked up a chair from the corner and indicated for Ludwig and Arthur to do the same. Arthur bent over to pick up a chair, and as he rested it in the space next to Vash he realized the Ludwig hadn't budged. He gave the German a questioning look, and Ludwig replied to it with a stare that spoke of wariness. _Fine, _Arthur thought. _Suit yourself._

Vash leaned forward in his chair and massaged his head.

"Gott... Where should I start? It's almost like my reality ended the day that we were attacked, Arthur." Arthur nodded sympathetically. He didn't speak, but he knew what the doctor was talking about.

"I doubt you know this, Arthur, but I- _we _all were taken captive on that ship. Leon, Yong Soo, Francis, Katyusha. Elizaveta, Yao. That god-awful ship, Arthur. You wouldn't believe... The crew is like a horde of demons. They're all bloodthirsty." Arthur listened in grim silence. Vash only had confirmed what the Englishman had suspected.

"..." Vash was silent. Arthur looked up, questioning. Vash flicked his glance toward him, and Arthur caught a whirlwind of emotions, like regret, sorrow, and pain.

"They..." He swallowed, closed his eyes. "They killed. I'm so sorry, Arthur... There was nothing I could do." Arthur froze, shocked, then looked away. _So... they did..._

"Katyusha. Then Leon and Im Yong, when they tried to save her. And then your adopted child. Alfred." Arthur choked. His heart caught in his throat, and before he could do anything, tears welled up in his eyes. _Alfred... Alfred!_ His heart thumped painfully, reminiscent of a dying bird's death throes. _He's gone... _The pain Arthur had felt on that day so many years ago was now fresh in his heart, ripping and tearing. He felt bile rise up in his throat, and he fought it down.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Vash staring at him empathetically. Yes, the doctor knew what he was going through. He was there to see it.

Arthur brusquely wiped away the treacherous tears at his eyes. He felt hollow beyond belief, but now was not the time for tears.

"...I see," he said finally. Vash nodded, then got up. Only a few steps brought the doctor to his numerous drawers, whereupon the Swiss man began shuffling through them expertly. Arthur watched him, but he felt too numb to be truly grateful.

"It was a bloody cough, ja? Tch..." More shuffling. A couple of slams as Vash went through the drawers a little too quickly. Then silence as quiet footsteps came back to Arthur.

Suddenly two packets, one big and one small, entered Arthur's vision. He twitched, but didn't otherwise react.

"For you. Give them both to the sick one immediately." The Swiss man's transaction was greeted with gratitude, for however sickly Arthur felt at this new development, he was doubly grateful to have medicine for Captain Honda. He looked at Vash with thanks in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I must leave so abruptly, but... he is in terrible condition. Thank you, again, so much... You have no idea how important this is to me."

**A/N: **Whoot! Back, yay~! Althoughmuch, much later than I'd hoped... sorry about that. I also believe I scared some of you with a false upload whilst I was fixing some of my mistakes in earlier chapters... doubly sorry about that. But I hope this new chapter makes up for it! And I'll get to cranking out another one, as well. As always, many thanks for reading! :D


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